Left Behind
by cindy123
Summary: d'Artagnan wakes, injured and in a strange place...but where are his brothers? Will they ever return for him or have they left him behind? Hurt/comfort, but most of the comfort comes for an OC. I know...sad.
1. Chapter 1

**Wow, it's been a long time! I have been so busy with both jobs and just have not had the time, nor energy to write. I have been working on this new story for a long time and have only been able to get to it every now and then. I was going to wait to post until I'm finished with it, but I decided that if I post chapter 1, maybe that will be the kick in the butt I need to work on it more often. I'm not planning on it being very long...hopefully 4 chapters at the most so maybe I can get it completed within a few months. No promises though. Anyway, here we go...**

 **Left Behind**

 **Chapter 1**

When Charles d'Artagnan awoke, in pain and feverish, in a room he'd never seen before and his brothers nowhere in sight, he felt a tremendous heaviness come over him. A fear, so sudden and deep that he gasped out at the sheer magnitude of it, gripped him and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out again. A woman who was a stranger to him hurried to his side, her face warm and smiling, but there was a crease between her brows that indicated her worry.

"You are awake! Are you in much pain?" the woman asked as her fingers gently swept down his right side.

Pain erupted in where the woman had touched him, but d'Artagnan was only concerned with one thing. "Wh-where are my friends?" he asked breathlessly, the pain nearly taking his ability to breathe away. "Are they safe? Are they okay?"

The woman's smile faded as she met d'Artagnan's eyes, her own eyes filled with sadness. "They are fine, young man. They left…two days ago," she answered, her voice soft and comforting as if she knew the pain that the information would cause her patient.

"L-eft?"

The woman took d'Artagnan's hand and squeezed it gently. "Yes. They brought you here in the middle of the night, asked if there was a doctor in the village and when I said there was, they handed me a bag of coin and asked me to summon him. Once the doctor arrived, they mounted their horses and rode away." Tears welled in her eyes at the look that came over her young charge's face.

"I…I…did they say when they were coming back for me?" d'Artagnan asked hesitantly.

"I'm sorry…they didn't say. They just said to take care of you and that they had to leave," the woman replied. "They did look pained to go, if that helps at all," she added with a small smile.

d'Artagnan gave a weak smile of his own before his gaze moved down to his heavily bandaged torso. "What happened to me?" he gasped as another stabbing pain shot through his side.

The woman looked down at his torso and sighed tiredly. "I don't know how it came to happen, but you were shot. The musket ball was still inside of you. Doctor Pasquale had to dig it out and sew you back up. You've developed an infection, but we're keeping it in check as much as we can," the woman answered.

With a sigh, d'Artagnan nodded, which sent a sharp lancing pain through his head. He hissed as he lifted his hand to his forehead. "M-my head…"

The woman gently gripped his hand and pushed it back to lie beside him on the bed. "You received a blow to head as well. Doctor Pasquale sewed up the cut, but there isn't much more he can do. The good thing is that you have awakened, so his biggest fear has not come to pass," she explained.

d'Artagnan swallowed thickly and turned his head to stare at the wall. The woman watched him for a moment then turned to the other person in the room. "Bring a mug of cool water and warm up the broth. Our young friend needs some nourishment if he is to get better," she called and a young girl who was standing back from the bed quickly nodded and went to work to gather what she'd been asked for. Once the water and broth had been brought to her, the woman cupped d'Artagnan's cheek and turned his face toward her.

"Here…let me help you sit up a bit so you can take some water and broth," she said softly.

"'m not hungry," d'Artagnan muttered as he tried to turn his head away again.

The woman sighed and leaned forward, a sad smile on her worn face. "You must eat if you are to be strong and healthy when your friends return for you," she said. Her smiled widened when d'Artagnan gave a slow nod and pushed himself up onto his elbows. She held his neck as he slowly drank some water, then broth. When both cups were halfway drained he slumped back to the bed and sighed.

"Can't drink anymore," he mumbled sleepily, his dark eyes drooping as he once again turned his head away.

"You did well. Now sleep. The doctor will be back in a few hours to check on you," the woman said as she placed the mugs on the floor beside her and straightened the blanket over the Gascon's torso.

d'Artagnan sighed in acknowledgement then turned his face and met the woman's gaze. "You have been so kind to me and I don't even know your name," he said, his voice thick with pain.

The woman smiled and tilted her head. "I am Marie and that is my daughter, Yvette," she answered as she tilted her head to the silent girl standing at the foot of the bed. "And what is your name, if I may ask?" she added.

"I am d'Artagnan," he said in reply.

"Well, d'Artagnan, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," Marie said. "Now, get some sleep. You need all that you can get."

d'Artagnan nodded, wincing when the pain in his head spiked. His fingers gripped the blanket as he rode out the pain and finally, he relaxed and breathed out a long, slow breath. He opened his eyes and met the worried ones of his caregiver. A small smile let her know that he was okay, or as okay as he could be under the circumstances. He closed his eyes as he gave way to the pain draught that he realized must have been put into his broth. He was out in seconds. Marie watched the young man for several minutes before rising from the chair she had been sitting on. She straightened out her dress skirts and gazed down at her charge. Yvette came to stand beside her, her own eyes taking in the sleeping young man before she glanced up at her mother's face.

"Will he be alright, mama?" Yvette softly asked.

Marie looked down at the girl and smiled sadly. "I hope so…but, I am afraid it may very well depend on how quickly his friends return," she answered. "I can only hope they had a very good reason for leaving him behind in such dire condition," she murmured with a hint of anger in her soft voice.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

 **Five Days Later**

"d'Artagnan, you must drink…you must eat. You need your strength to fight this infection! Your friends will be very upset when they return and find that you have wasted away to nothing!" Marie cried as she wrung her hands in worry and frustration.

Sorrowful eyes looked up at the worried woman and it took all of Marie's strength to keep from dragging the young man into her arms and squeezing him tight. "Oh, d'Artagnan, I know it's been longer than you had expected, but please don't lose hope that your friends are coming back," she cried softly as she dropped to her knees and gently cupped the Gascon's cheek.

"Why haven't they come for me, Marie?" d'Artagnan whispered brokenly, his dark eyes searching hers for an answer that she didn't have.

"I don't know, but I'm sure they will be coming any day now," Marie answered, hating herself for the lie she believed she was telling.

d'Artagnan sighed and looked past Marie to the door behind her. "What if something happened to them after they left here? What would I do, Marie? They are all that I have," he asked, his voice cracking at the very thought of never seeing his brothers again.

"Don't say that, d'Artagnan! Don't even think it! They are fine. They have just been held up somehow," Marie exclaimed, her heart breaking at the haunted look in d'Artagnan's eyes.

"First I lost my father, and now maybe my brothers. I have no one, Marie. I am alone." A single tear spilled from d'Artagnan's eye and trailed down his reddened cheek, breaking the hold that Marie had on her emotions. She took d'Artagnan's face into her hands, her thumb tenderly brushing the tear away.

"They will be here. Please don't lose hope. I know that I don't know them at all, but from what you have told me about them, I can't see them not coming back for you," Marie comforted. "But, if for some reason, they do not return, you have us, my sweet boy. You are not alone, no matter what happens, you will always have us," she whispered before placing a soft kiss on the Gascon's forehead.

Marie watched as several emotions played over d'Artagnan's face. Finally, he smiled sadly and turned his head away. He closed his eyes and within minutes his breath evened out as if in sleep. Marie sat for several more minutes, thinking about what she had said. It was true, what she had told her young charge. In the short time that he had been in her care, she had come to care a great deal about him. She didn't know exactly what it was about him, but she did know that it would hurt her deeply if he did not recover.

"Oh, d'Artagnan, what am I to do with you?" she whispered as she straightened the blanket over the Gascon's still form. "You must get better. Yvette frets so…she's quite taken with you I'm afraid. She thinks of you as the big brother she never had and she is terrified because you hardly eat a thing."

d'Artagnan turned his head back to face Marie and opened his eyes. "'m sorry, Marie, to be causing you and Yvette so much grief," he mumbled sleepily, his eyes shimmering as he stared woefully up at his caregiver.

"I thought you were asleep," Marie said with a warm smile.

"I almost was," d'Artagnan responded. He turned and looked up at the ceiling before returning his gaze to Marie. "Why do you fuss so over me? I'm hardly worth the trouble. And Yvette…she should be out playing, not helping you tend to me," he added guiltily.

Marie shook her head and took the Gascon's hand in hers. "Oh, you silly, silly boy. She chooses to help because she cares a great deal about you, just as I do. Like I said, she thinks of you as her big brother," she replied.

d'Artagnan gazed up at her for a moment or two, then shifted on the bed. "I believe that I am a bit hungry, Marie…now that I think about it. Maybe Yvette could bring the bread and cheese back for me? And maybe some of that tea and milk that settles my stomach?" he asked with the slightest of grins.

Marie quirked her head and smiled down at her charge. She knew right away what he was doing, but she was not going to call him on it for fear he would change his mind. "I think Yvette would be delighted to bring your supper back to you," she answered with a grin.

Marie made her way to stand, but a gentle grip on her forearm made her turn back to face d'Artagnan. "What is it?" she asked.

d'Artagnan sighed as he released her arm. "I did not realize how much worry I was putting you and Yvette through while I have been wallowing in self pity. It is not fair to you and I am truly sorry for my behavior," he softly said.

Marie smiled and patted d'Artagnan's hand. "There is no apology needed. I can only imagine how you must be feeling. Just please promise me that you will try to bring yourself out of this pit of despair and that you will eat so you can gain your strength back enough to at least get out of that bed," she replied.

With a slight nod, d'Artagnan smiled warmly up at his care taker. "I promise to try, Marie," he said.

"That is all that I ask," Marie said in reply before pushing to her feet. "Now, I will go fetch Yvette to bring you your supper."

Once Marie left, d'Artagnan let out a heavy sigh. He felt intense guilt for how he was worrying Marie and Yvette and he hoped beyond hope that he could keep his promise to the both of them. He reasoned that if he could at least eat and regain his strength, then he could get out of bed and help as much as he could around the house to repay his care taker's kindness. If he could be busy, he could possibly keep his mind off of his missing brothers, at least for a little while and then maybe…maybe he could begin to crawl out of the dark hole he felt he had fallen into. He feared though that the only thing that would bring him completely back into the light again was the sight of his three brothers safely back with him.

 **Poor d'Artagnan. I really hope the Inseparables are okay so they can get back to him. Thanks for reading and remember...reviews are love 3**

 **Cindy**


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, thank you all so much for all of the comments, favorites and follows! Wow, you guys are the best! Second, I am so sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I was assigned not one, but two big projects at work so my writing time has been cut drastically. I will probably finish this story up with one more chapter after this because I have no idea how much time I'll be able to devote to it. Dang work! Anyway, I'll let you get to it!**

 **Cindy**

 **Left Behind**

 **Chapter 2**

Marie stood inside the doorway, her worried eyes focused on the lone figure stacking firewood in the old shed behind her small cottage. It had been fifteen days since the young man she had grown so fond of had woken in confusion and pain in her daughter's bedroom, and seventeen days since she had been entrusted with his care by three men who had seemed to care about him, but who could really say given the length of time that had passed without word of when they would return for him.

d'Artagnan had rallied after their talk, but Marie knew it was more because he felt guilty for causing she and Yvette so much worry than the need to regain his strength for when his friends came back around. She could see it in his dark eyes, the pain and sadness of not knowing what had become of the three men, and the past several days she had seen something else in him…she was seeing a man in mourning. Whether it was because he felt that something terrible had happened to his friends, or because he felt, for some reason, that they were intentionally not returning, Marie had no way of knowing. Either way, it appeared as the young Gascon had all but given up on seeing his friends again, and for that, Marie could tell, he mourned.

d'Artagnan had been a big help around the house once he had regained most of his strength and mostly healed from his wound. When he had learned that Marie's husband had died the previous winter, leaving both Marie and Yvette alone, he had taken it upon himself to fix things that needed fixing and to help wherever he could. He had rebuffed any protest from Marie that he was still recovering and needed to take it easy. He had completely immersed himself in work, and Marie had the distinct feeling that it was as much as his way of repaying her for her help as it was in keeping his mind off of his missing friends. In any case, the hole in the roof had been fixed, the fence around the garden repaired, and now the firewood shed was nearly full with cut logs that would keep she and Yvette warm in the coming winter. In addition to all of the work he had been doing, he also took as much time as he could to take care of the horse that his three friends had also left in Marie's care.

Suddenly, d'Artagnan stumbled, his shoulder hitting the edge of the doorway. Marie stepped forward in concern when the young man leaned his forehead against the door frame and took a deep breath, his hand coming up to rest on the frame beside his face. Marie hurried across the expanse between her house and the shed, but stopped suddenly when she heard a strangled sob come from the Gascon. Wanting to rush to her charge, but sensing that he needed to be alone, Marie reluctantly turned and headed back into her house. She turned when she knew she would be shaded in the shadows and watched as d'Artagnan turned, his back pressed against the door frame, and slid to ground. He dropped his head to his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs. His shoulders shook, and Marie could only assume that he was crying. Feeling like an intruder, Marie slipped further into her house to give the young man the privacy she was sure he needed.

It was twenty minutes later when d'Artagnan slipped into the small kitchen. He ducked his head when Marie glanced his way and murmured something about needing to go get cleaned up before supper, but not before Marie had seen his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. Alone again, Marie sighed and turned her attention back to the stew that was simmering on the hearth. Satisfied that it was nearly done, she went to the table to prepare the freshly baked bread for the meal. An hour later, she, Yvette and a quiet and subdued d'Artagnan were seated around the table. They ate in silence, both mother and daughter stealing glances at their guest every so often as he mostly picked at his meal. Once the meal was over, d'Artagnan's only half way eaten, d'Artagnan finally looked at the two and smiled softly.

"Marie, Yvette," he softly said as he turned his gaze to the small window near the door. "I…I think it is time for me to leave…"

"No!" Yvette cried, her small hand reaching over the table to grab d'Artagnan's bigger one. "You can't leave! You still aren't fully healed and…and if you do, your friends will miss you when they return!"

"Yvette…" Marie started, but the tear filled eyes of her daughter as they turned her way stopped her words in her throat.

"No, mama! He can't leave. His side still pains him and he'll be all alone and…"

d'Artagnan gently gripped the young girl's hand and smiled when she turned back to him. "Yvette, I have to go. I am sorry, but I don't think my friends are returning. That is why I must leave. I…"

"d'Artagnan, you must have faith. They have only been held up…they will come!" Yvette cried.

"No…I don't think so. I think something has happened to them and I must find them. They may be in grave danger," d'Artagnan explained, his eyes filled with pain at the thought that his friends could be hurt, or worse.

"No…I…"

Marie reached out and gripped her daughter's arm as she sent a quick glance to the young man across the table. "Yvette, it is d'Artagnan's choice. If he wishes to leave, we cannot keep him here," she softly said.

Yvette turned toward her mother, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes. "But he'll be all alone and those bad men who hurt him could still be out there!"

"I promise I will be fine," d'Artagnan said as he gave the young girl's hand another gentle squeeze. "I am a trained musketeer after all," he said with a small grin.

"And yet you were shot…and knocked senseless!" Yvette spat as fresh tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

"Yvette!" Marie cried.

"It is alright, Marie," d'Artagnan said with a small smile, before once again turning his attention to the young girl. "Yes, Yvette, I was hurt, but my skills as a musketeer kept me from being killed," he explained softly.

"But you had your friends there to help you…if you leave, you will be all alone! What if…" Yvette began, only to be cut off by another gentle squeeze to her hand.

"I know, Yvette…I know that you are worried, but the fact that there could be more of the men out there who attacked my friends and I is another reason why I must go. I am the only one who can help my friends if these men have found and hurt them. Besides, if there are more of the bad men, they could be looking for me as well and that could bring them here and I can't chance that any longer. I must go, not only to find my friends, but to keep you and your mama safe. I cannot stay any longer," d'Artagnan sadly stated.

"Do you really think that men could come here, looking for you?" Marie asked worriedly as she pulled Yvette close to her side.

With a sigh, d'Artagnan looked at Marie and shook his head. "Most likely not, but I have no way of knowing if any of the men who attacked us got away since I was knocked unconscious during the fight. I'm sure if anything was going to happen, it would have by now, but I can no longer risk it. You and Yvette are too important to me," he replied.

Marie nodded, then stood to clear the table. "I will prepare you a satchel of food in the morning for your journey," she said.

d'Artagnan also stood to help with the dishes. "That won't be necessary, Marie…I've already taken way more than you can afford to give me," he said.

Marie turned and leveled a stern glare at the Gascon. "If you think I'm going to send you off with no food or drink, you may have scrambled your brains a little bit more than I thought! You will take the food I pack and that is all there is to it!" she commanded. At d'Artagnan's chagrined nod, she turned once more and placed the dirty dishes on the bench next to the wash basin.

d'Artagnan stepped up next to Marie and smiled when she glanced his way. "Thank you, Marie, for all that you have done for me," he said softly as he picked up a rag to help with the dishes.

Marie sighed and turned back to the chore in front of her. "You mustn't mourn your friends so soon, d'Artagnan," she said, her voice nearly a whisper. She sensed her young guest tense beside her and turned to once more meet his eyes.

"I…I am not mourning them, Marie. I am fearful for their safety…that is all," d'Artagnan defended.

Marie smiled and lifted a hand to gently cup the Gascon's cheek. "I know when I see someone in mourning. The haunted look in their eyes, the slump of their shoulders. I've seen that look in Yvette's eyes…in my own eyes," Marie explained. "I see that look in your eyes now. You are in mourning, whether you realize it or not, d'Artagnan."

The Gascon set his rag down and backed up until his knees met the bench at the table. He lowered himself down and dropped his face into his open palms. After a few moments, he lifted his head and met Marie's worried gaze. The pain she saw in those dark depth's stole her breath away.

"Oh, d'Artagnan. Everything will be okay," she cried softly as she rushed to kneel in front of the young man.

"Something terrible has happened…I know it has. They would never have left me for this long unless…unless they…"

"No, d'Artagnan! You do not know anything at this time! All we know is that they have taken longer than expected to return for you. We don't know why , we just…"

"You don't know them, Marie. They wouldn't be gone this long without sending word to me unless they were terribly hurt, or being held prisoner, or…or dead," d'Artagnan whispered, the last word coming out in a soft sob.

Marie sighed as she lifted her hand and gently rested it on d'Artagnan's forearm. "You're right, I don't know them. I can't tell you that nothing has happened to them, or that they are okay. I wish I could. I wish that I had words to say that would make you feel less pain, but I don't, and I'm so sorry," she cried softly.

"You have no reason to be sorry, Marie. You have taken care of me, nursed me back to health…all with no complaint. I owe you my life and will give it freely if ever it is needed," d'Artagnan said with heartfelt gratitude.

Marie smiled sadly and pushed to her feet. "Nothing of the sort is or ever will be necessary. Do not even speak that way," she said. "Yvette would never forgive you," she added with a wink, to which d'Artagnan smiled, nodding his head in agreement.

"Thank you, Marie. I don't know how I would have done this without you," d'Artagnan said as he rose to his feet. He took a step toward the wash basin, but stopped when Marie shook her head. She swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat, took a deep breath and lifted her chin, her eyes lowering as she turned away from the Gascon.

"If you are to be leaving tomorrow, you will need to take your rest. I will finish up in here," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument and covering the slight waver in her voice.

d'Artagnan smiled and nodded before turning and leaving the small kitchen. An hour later, when Marie had finished with the evening chores, she entered the living area and smiled fondly when she found d'Artagnan sleeping in her husband's rocking chair, his feet propped on a small foot stool, with Yvette curled up on his lap, her head tucked up under his chin and his arms wrapped protectively around her. She moved to wake them both, but decided that a little while longer wouldn't hurt anything. She sat down in her own seat and took up the mending that sat on the small table beside her. She watched the two sleep and thought about how lonely the house would be once the Gascon was gone. Her thoughts moved to the three men who had thundered to her doorstep all of those weeks ago, the three men who meant the world to her young charge. She prayed that nothing terrible had befallen them for she knew without a single doubt that if the men had perished before finding their way back to d'Artagnan, he would never recover from the loss.

Marie tended to her mending for an hour before she rose and softly shook Yvette awake. The young girl climbed slowly off of d'Artagnan's lap and sleepily stumbled off to bed while Marie woke her charge.

"Why don't you head off to bed now. You won't get proper rest sleeping in the chair," Marie instructed when deep brown eyes blinked tiredly up at her. d'Artagnan nodded and pushed up from the chair with a soft groan. Marie watched him disappear into the front bedroom then let out a soft sigh. Tomorrow would be here soon enough and she couldn't help but to think on what a difficult day it was going to be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The morning had dawned bright and sunny, but the moods within the small cottage were anything but. Yvette hardly spoke through breakfast and ran to her room when Marie began to pack food and water into d'Artagnan's saddle bags. Marie rushed to follow her daughter, leaving d'Artagnan to finish. The two had emerged a short time later, but the silence continued on as Yvette sat sullenly at the table while her mother took over packing so d'Artagnan could go and ready his horse. Finally, all preparations were ready and d'Artagnan was ready to go. He stepped out the front door into the morning sunshine then turned when he heard Marie and Yvette come out behind him. He looked down at the young girl, held out his hand and smiled. A second later I was nearly bowled over when Yvette flung herself at him, her arms wrapping tightly around his slender waist, her face pressed into his chest. d'Artagnan tenderly wrapped his arms around the girl's shoulders and hugged her tighter to himself. After a few moments, he gently pushed her back, then knelt before her. He lifted a hand to her cheek when he saw that she was crying.

"It will be okay, sweet Yvette. I will be okay," d'Artagnan said softly as he tenderly brushed the tears away.

"I'll never see you again," Yvette cried as more tears streamed from her eyes.

d'Artagnan shushed the girl's protest before pulling her in for another hug. He pulled away and looked into her tear filled eyes. "I promise that I will come back to see you again as soon as I can," he said.

"You promise?" Yvette asked hopefully.

"I promise. I will be back just as soon as it is possible," d'Artagnan answered.

Yvette smiled shyly then rested a hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder. "You better. It isn't polite to make a promise and then not keep it," she said sternly.

d'Artagnan let out a small laugh then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Yvette's forehead. After another hug, he rose to his feet and turned to Marie, who stood by patiently waiting for her turn to say goodbye.

"Marie, I can't possibly repay you for all that you have done for me. My heartfelt thank you is all that I have at this moment to give," d'Artagnan said as he crossed the short distance to where his caregiver stood.

"You keep your promise and that is all the repayment that I need," Marie said with a small smile. "Be safe and return to see us one day."

"I will," d'Artagnan answered with a slight nod of his head. He pulled Marie into a tight hug and whispered his thanks again. Finally, he pulled away a turned to look once more at Yvette.

"You take good care of your mama for me, okay?" he asked, his lips quirked up into an easy grin.

"I will!" Yvette responded with a wide grin of her own.

As d'Artagnan moved to mount his horse, the sound of approaching riders suddenly reached his ears. He looked back at Marie who shook her head in silent answer to his question…no, she wasn't expecting any visitors. A spark of hope filled the young Gascon, but then he remembered that he had no idea if all of the attackers had been take care of. He backed away from his horse and pulled his sword free from his belt.

"Take Yvette into the house," he commanded as he moved to have a better line of sight through the trees. He held his sword in front of him and prepared to protect those who had come to be so dear to him. He prayed that he would be enough when the riders finally came into view.

 **Dun, dun, dun! So, I can't tell you when the next chapter will be posted, but I can say I will work on it as often as I can and I will get it posted just as soon as I possibly can. In the meantime, please let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks so much for reading!**

 **Cindy**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know, I know...it's been forever. And I haven't given you a particularly long chapter to make up for it. My deepest apologies. I had a large project dropped on my desk and had to work on that during my "breaks" in order to get it completed by the deadline. Ah, such is life. Anyway, I was able to work on finishing the new chapter today and though it is short, it does have a lot going on. I hope it goes at least a little way in making up for the long wait. So, without further ado...onto the story:**

 **Chapter 3**

" _Take Yvette into the house," he commanded as he moved to have a better line of sight through the trees. He held his sword in front of him and prepared to protect those who had come to be so dear to him. He prayed that he would be enough when the riders finally came into view._

d'Artagnan watched as the riders…two of them…trotted to a halt several meters away from him and slid from their horses backs. The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the looks they gave Marie and Yvette as they retreated into the small cottage, causing him to move to his left in an attempt to block their view. The two men took a few steps forward then stopped and shifted their gazes to the Gascon.

"What do you want!?" d'Artagnan called out, his eyes narrowed as he watched the men for any sudden movements. From the outside he looked calm, but inside, his heart was hammering in his chest at the thought that he may not be able to protect Marie and Yvette from these men in his current condition. Yes, he had mostly recovered from his injuries, but he still wasn't one hundred percent and he had not held his sword in weeks. If the men meant harm to Marie and Yvette, he feared he may not be able to stop them, though he would die trying. He watched as one man leaned his head toward the other and spoke quietly to him.

"That 'im?" the first man queried, the words just barely loud enough to carry over the distance between them and d'Artagnan. The second man nodded as he kept his eye on the Gascon. "Aye, that's 'im," he replied, his lips curling up into a sneer.

The first man stepped forward another step and tilted his head to the side. "Your women folk…they's darned pretty. The smaller one is young, but not too young, if'n ya know what I mean," he said menacingly.

"You even think about touching one hair on either of their heads and I will gut you like the pig you are!" d'Artagnan spat, fury filling him at the man's words.

"Settle down, boy!" the second man called as he stepped up next to his companion. "We ain't here for them, though we may find our way back 'ere once we've delivered you to our boss," he added with a smirk.

d'Artagnan reined in the red hot anger he felt at the second voiced threat to Marie and Yvette and took a step forward. It would do nobody any good if he lost his temper now. Head over heart he whispered to himself before calling out to the men, "What do you want with me? Why are you here!"

"You 'ave a letter and our boss wants it. We aim to deliver both you and that letter to 'im," the first man called.

d'Artagnan's heart skipped a beat at the man's words. If they didn't have the letter, then was it possible that his friends had made it back to Paris unharmed, letter intact? If this was so, then why hadn't they returned yet? So many thoughts ran through the Gascon's mind, but none of that showed to the two men who stood before him. "I haven't got any letter! Be gone now before I kill you both!" d'Artagnan called with as much confidence as he could muster.

"We know who ya are, boy! You was with them three musketeers and you was carryin' a letter that our boss wants, and you was injured pretty bad!" the first man called as he stepped even closer.

"I will tell you again…I have no letter!" d'Artagnan hissed as he brought his rapier up in front of him.

"That ain't what your pig friends said! Once we captured 'em and didn't find the letter, we tortured them 'til they was cryin' for their mamans like wee little brats. They told us that they stashed the letter on you and hid you away so's we couldn't find ya. We gutted them then came lookin' for you, and here ya are talkin' all tough like ya ain't outnumbered!" the man responded with a menacing glare.

d'Artagnan smiled before lowering his sword slightly. "Now I know that you are lying," he called with confidence. His grin widened when he saw the men's cocky demeanors falter ever so slightly.

"Believe what ya want, boy," the first man hissed. "Give us the letter and come willingly and we will leave them two pretty ladies in peace," he added with a near toothless grin.

d'Artagnan smirked as he took a step forward, his rapier still held steadily before him. "I do not have the letter. By now, it will have been delivered into the hands of King Louis by my friends," he said.

The first man spat at the ground, then narrowed his eyes as he took in the confident man before him. "I already told ya, boy…I gutted your friends after they gave you up," he hissed.

"And I told you that I know you are lying. My friends…my brothers, would have never given me up, no matter what was done to them. If you are here still looking for the letter, then I know that my friends made it back to Paris. The game is over, your boss will soon be apprehended, not that you'll get to see it," d'Artagnan called cooly.

"Oh yeah…and why is that, boy?!" the second man shouted.

d'Artagnan tilted his head and casually eyed the men. "Because you both die here today," he stated with a grin.

The men laughed as they drew their swords and began to circle around either side of the wary Gascon. The second, smaller man attacked first, drawing d'Artagnan's attention to his right. He parried the man's strike, driving him back with his own attack. He sensed more than heard the attack coming from behind from the first, bigger man, and quickly shoved his current attacker away, the smaller man stumbling and falling to his back in surprise, then d'Artagnan turned and caught the second attackers blade with his main gauche, narrowly escaping losing his head. He ducked and swiveled his body away from the bigger man, now putting both men in front of him. The first man growled with anger as he lurched toward the Gascon, but d'Artagnan anticipated the attack and jumped to his left just as the man attacked. He sliced his rapier across the man's arm as he stumbled past him, the man crying out in pain and anger. d'Artagnan scrambled backward away from the man and turned to see the second man was nearly upon him, his sword held high before he brought it down in a sweeping arc. d'Artagnan tried to duck out of the way, but the tip of the blade caught him on his upper arm. He sucked in a startled breath at the pain that erupted where the blade had hit, but had no time to acknowledge it before both men were upon him. He parried the first man's sword with his rapier while blocking the second's strike with his main gauche. He ducked, then twisted to his right and dragged his rapier across the belly of the second man while simultaneously pushing the first man away with every bit of strength he had.

Time stopped for a few seconds as the second man stumbled back, his sword falling from his hand as he grasped his now bleeding belly. The first man, his eyes wide with surprise, could only watch as his comrade fell to ground with an obviously fatal wound. A roar of unadulterated rage was the only warning the exhausted Gascon got before the first man plowed into him and knocked him to the ground. He rolled out of the way just a second before the man's sword was driven into the dirt where d'Artagnan's chest had just been. The few seconds it took for the man to pull his sword free from the earth was all the Gascon needed to make it to his feet, somehow with his rapier still in hand. His main gauche, however, had flown from his hand upon his impact with the ground and he sorely felt it's loss. He had little time to lament his loss when the man was upon him again. Their fight went on for many long minutes, both men sustaining superficial wounds along the way. After a particularly hard blocked hit, d'Artagnan stumbled back, his knees nearly buckling as dark spots suddenly danced before his eyes. He knew that he was quickly losing strength and that if he were to come out victorious, he would need to end the battle quickly. His body had other plans, however, as when he attempted to step forward once again, his knees buckled and he went down hard on one, his free hand coming down to the ground to keep him from falling while his other hand shakily held his rapier up in front of him. His vision further darkened and dizziness washed over him as he sensed the man approach him.

"Well, well…it seems that yer in a bit of a pickle now, boy!" the man hissed. Suddenly, he brought his booted foot up and kicked d'Artagnan in the chest, sending the gasping Gascon to his back. d'Artagnan wearily lifted his rapier up again, but the man batted it away with his sword, the rapier falling uselessly the earth, just out of d'Artagnan's reach. The young musketeer glared blearily up at the man and sent a silent apology to Marie and Yvette for failing to protect them. Lacking any strength to prevent was about to happen, d'Artagnan let his head fall back to the earth with a soft thud. He watched as the grinning man lifted his sword up, only to bring it swiftly back down again. Two things happened simultaneously in the next moment. d'Artagnan heard the distinctive sound of a musket being fired and one second later, he felt incredible pain pierce his shoulder, followed by a sudden weight across his chest. He blinked his eyes as he attempted to gulp in air, but the pain and crushing weight on his chest left his vision more black than anything. He heard both Marie and Yvette cry out, but had no strength left to even turn his head in the direction of their voices.

With muddled alarm, he heard the sound of pounding hoof beats approaching and let out a soft cry of grief at the thought of Marie and Yvette being left at the mercy of whomever was approaching. He lost his weak grip on consciousness just as he heard a familiar voice call out his name in anguish. He never felt the weight being lifted off of him or the desperate hands that were suddenly upon him, nor did he hear the terror filled voices that all cried out for him to open his eyes, to please, please, please do not leave them. He didn't hear Yvette's strangled sobs or Marie crying out his name. He heard and felt nothing as his world slipped away.

 **Oh boy...yikes...what the heck have I done? Poor d'Artagnan. So, yeah, I did that. I left it there. Cruel, but not so unusual. I will try my hardest to get the next (and probably final) chapter out within the next few weeks, but again, I can make no promises. Reviews are love 3**

 **Cindy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I'm back with the next chapter. I've been working on it at every available moment, but it's been hectic, to say the least. I finally got a chance to breathe today and was able to finish the chapter up! You'll be happy to know that our four heroes will be finally be reunited! It's about time! Anyway, I'll let you get to the story.**

 **Cindy**

 **Chapter 4**

"Are ya sure this is the way, Athos?" Porthos queried as he eyed his surroundings suspiciously.

Athos sighed as he turned toward his brother and friend. "Yes, Porthos, I am sure this is the way," he answered with just a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Well, forgive me, but it ain't like we could really take in our surroundings when we were trying to find a safe place to leave the pup!" Porthos grumbled dejectedly.

"No, we couldn't, but I did take in our surroundings when we rode out again. This is the right way," Athos responded. "We will see him soon, Porthos," he added gently when he saw the big man's shoulders drop.

Porthos glanced over at him and gave him an apologetic smile. "I know…I just…I just hope 'e's okay and that 'e's still there. It's been weeks. I don't even want to think about what 'e's been thinking about…what with us being gone so long and all," he sadly said. "Do ya think 'e's okay?"

Athos' stomach knotted at the question. He hoped and prayed that their youngest brother was okay, but he had no way of knowing, one way or the other. He looked over at Porthos and shook his head slightly. "He's tough and more stubborn than anyone I know. I'm sure he's fine," he answered as confidently as he could.

Porthos nodded, then glanced behind him. "Aramis, why so quiet?" he asked of their third companion. Aramis looked up at his friend and shrugged. "I should have stayed with him. He was hurt and I just left him there, with strangers. I can't help but to think of how he felt when he awoke to people he didn't know," he answered sadly. "I should have stayed…"

Athos stopped his horse and turned in his saddle to face his brother. "You know we all three had to go, Aramis. There was no other way," he said. "The letter was too important..."

"More important than d'Artagnan!?" Aramis hissed out in anger. "He is our brother and we left him! I should have been the one taking care of him, not some physician that he didn't even know!"

Athos sighed as he faced his friend. "Aramis, this is the job. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices to protect the King…"

"So, d'Artagnan was a sacrifice? Is that what you're saying? An acceptable loss in order to get that letter to the King?"

"Aramis…"

"No, Athos! We shouldn't have left him alone! I should have stayed! You and Porthos would have been fine to go to Paris on your own!" Aramis spat.

"We didn't know that at the time, Aramis. And anyway, trouble could have found us at any point along the way. We needed your expert marksmanship, and your medical skills in case one of us was injured," Athos said, his voice rising in irritation.

"And what of d'Artagnan's injuries? He was shot, Athos! And knocked senseless!"

"We found him a physician and a safe place to stay. We did all that we could at the time," Athos said. "I hated leaving him…it tore me apart…but, it was the only way."

Aramis let out a heavy breath and lifted his head to stare up at the blue sky. His body seemed to deflate as he once again looked at Athos. "I know…I know we had to leave him, but…I'm sorry, Athos, I know how hard it was for you to make that call. It just feels so wrong, what we did," he breathed out.

Athos closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath then opened them, first glancing over at Porthos, then again at Aramis. "I know. Nothing about any of this was right. Being attacked, d'Artagnan nearly killed, leaving him, and then the King…the King refusing to let any other musketeers but us take his missive to Blois instead of allowing us to come back for d'Artagnan," he said, his voice filled with regret and exhaustion.

"Yeah, and don't forget the King forbidding Treville from sending word back this way to let d'Artagnan know why we left 'im and why it would take some time before we could come back for 'im," Porthos spat in anger.

"That too," Athos agreed. "But, we are here now and in less than an hour's time, we will see d'Artagnan again and we can explain it all to him," he added.

Without another word, the three set off again, this time with all three side by side. It was barely a half hour later, for none of the three could keep their speed at a normal gait, when Athos stopped and looked at a rock formation next to the narrow road. "I remember those rocks. We are nearly there. It's just there, through the trees," he said as he turned to his friends with a smile. Suddenly, the three were startled by the sound of a musket being fired. They looked at each other, three sets of eyes wide with sudden fear.

"d'Artagnan!" Porthos cried out as the three kicked their horses into an all out sprint in the direction the musket fire had come from.

The sight that met them as they crashed through the trees just a few minutes later turned their blood to ice. The woman with whom they had left their precious brother stood just outside the doorway to her small cottage, a smoking musket held in two shaking hands, and not ten feet in front of her lay an unmoving d'Artagnan with the body of a man draped over his chest. The most sickening sight of all, however, was the sword that stuck up from where it had been imbedded in d'Artagnan's shoulder, no doubt by the man who appeared to (hopefully) be dead.

Athos sat frozen in is saddle, the sight of his protégé and brother too much of a shock for him to move. Porthos, however was off his horse, screaming d'Artagnan's name as he ran to the fallen Gascon, the large man ripping the dead man up from his brother and tossing him aside as if he weighed nothing. Porthos dropped next to d'Artagnan, his hands going to the unconscious man's face, where he gently patted his cheeks, begging him to please open his eyes. Aramis dropped down opposite of Porthos just a few seconds later, his dark eyes taking in the sword that protruded from his shoulder. He spared a quick glance up when Athos, who had come out of his stupor, now joined them and dropped down next to him.

"Please, d'Artagnan, open your eyes. Please, don't leave us!" Athos cried softly as he took up one of d'Artagnan's hands. "Aramis, does he live?" he added pleadingly.

Aramis reached out a shaky hand and pressed his fingers to the side of d'Artagnan's neck. He released a relieved breath and looked up and met Porthos' pleading eyes, then Athos'.

"He's alive," he breathed out, his head dropping as a whispered prayer of thanks fell from his lips.

"Thank God," Porthos whispered as he returned his gaze to his brother's lax face, his hand tenderly cupping the pale cheek.

"We need to get him inside so I can work on him, but first we need to get this sword out of him," Aramis said. "I need to see if it's gone all the way through or not before I do anything though."

Together, he and Athos carefully lifted the Gascon's shoulder, Aramis letting out another relieved breath when it became apparent that the sword had not gone all the way through. They gently laid him back down then Aramis hurried to his horse to retrieve his medical supplies. While Aramis was doing this, Athos looked up for the first time and glanced over to where Marie and Yvette stood watching, the young girl still choking out sobs, her cheeks flushed and tear stained, her mother's arm wrapped around her shoulders. The woman still held the musket in her other hand while she watched, wide eyed, as the three men she recognized from weeks ago take care of the young man she now cherished as one of her family.

"I…I've never shot a m-musket before. I…" Marie started, but she stopped as her eyes moved to the sword that was still imbedded in d'Artagnan's shoulder.

Athos gave d'Artagnan's arm a gentle squeeze, then rose and walked to the distraught woman. He reached down and gently took the musket from her hand before looking up at her and smiling. "You did well. You likely saved his life and no amount of words could ever relay how very grateful we are for that," he said appreciatively.

"That man…he was going to kill him. I-I couldn't let that happen. He fought so hard to protect us from them," Marie replied, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Them?" Athos queried in a surprised voice.

Marie turned and dipped her head to her right, Athos's eyes following in that direction, his eyes going wide at the sight of another dead man laying several feet away. The fact that none of them had noticed a second attacker was a testament to how panicked they had been when they first burst through the trees and saw their brother laying lifeless on the ground.

"Athos…I need your help," Aramis called, startling the man out of his thoughts. He dipped his head to Marie then hurried to Aramis' side.

"What do you need me to do?" Athos asked as stepped up beside the medic.

"You're going to pull the sword straight up and out while I immediately pack cloth into the wound. Once that sword is out, he's going to bleed…a lot. Once I get the wound packed, we'll all three lift him and carry him inside," Aramis explained. "Porthos, I'll need you to hold him in case he awakens and fights us. We don't need any more damage to that shoulder than there already is," he added as he glanced over to the big man.

"Aye, I got 'im," Porthos responded with a nod of his head.

Aramis smiled wearily then glanced over to where Marie and Yvette still stood. "Madame, could you please prepare a place where I can work on my friend?" he called softly.

Marie nodded and hurried into the cottage, pulling a pliant Yvette behind her. Aramis knelt once more beside d'Artagnan, both hands holding bunches of cloth to help staunch the flow of blood once the sword was removed. When he was ready, he glanced over at Porthos, tipping his head when Porthos said that he was ready. He then turned his attention to Athos. "Are you ready?" he asked of their leader.

"I'm ready…let's get this thing out of him," Athos hissed through gritted teeth.

Aramis nodded then turned his attention to the unconscious Gascon. He placed one cloth filled hand on either side of the sword and took a deep breath. "Go, Athos! Pull it out!" he cried.

Athos pulled up with all of his strength, the sword pulling free with more than a little effort. The Inseparables hearts broke at the soft cry of pain from their youngest, all three both amazed and concerned when he didn't awaken. The Gascon whimpered as Aramis quickly cut his leather doublet and shirt open and packed the now bleeding wound, but he still didn't wake. Once the medic had tightened a length of cloth around d'Artagnan's shoulder, holding the packed cloth in place, the three musketeers positioned themselves around their youngest and as gently as they could, they lifted his limp body from the ground and carefully carried him inside where Marie instructed them to take him to the bedroom where he had been staying since he had first arrived.

"I have water heating on the hearth," Marie said as she worriedly watched them lay their precious burden onto the bed. "Do you need for me to fetch the physician?" she asked.

Aramis glanced behind him and shook his head. "No need. I can take care of him," he answered before returning his full attention to his patient. "Once that water is heated, please bring it. And, any cloth you can spare. Porthos, I'll need my supplies that I left outside. Madame, if you could also bring cool water…he's already starting to feel warm…and alcohol, if you have it. And Athos, I need you to help hold him up so I can get his clothing off of him," he instructed without removing his gaze from his young comrade.

Porthos nodded and rushed outside while Marie, with the help of Yvette, gathered the items that had been requested. It was harder than anticipated to remove d'Artagnan's doublet and shirt, leaving Aramis no other option than to cut them completely off. Porthos returned with Aramis' supplies just as they were pulling the remnants of the Gascon's clothes away, revealing a forming bruise in the shape of a boot bottom in the middle of his chest. Porthos cursed as he saw the bruise and wished that he could bring the man who had hurt his brother back to life so that he could kill him himself, slowly and painfully.

Aramis, upon seeing the bruise, gently prodded the area, letting his two concerned brothers know that he felt no broken ribs around the bruise. Moving back to the stab wound, Aramis carefully unwrapped the length of cloth from around d'Artagnan's shoulder, then he slowly pulled the bunched up cloth away to see if the bleeding had slowed. Noting that the wound was now only sluggishly bleeding, he pulled the cloth away and dropped it to the floor. He gathered more cloth that Marie had brought, dipped it in the heated water and began to clean the area. Once clean, he looked up at Porthos.

"I need you to hold him down now, Porthos. I am going to have to check deeper into the wound for any pieces of cloth that may have gotten in from his shirt. It is going to hurt and I cannot see him not awakening," Aramis instructed before looking up at Athos. "Athos, please hold his legs. I do not want to cause any more pain or damage than he's already endured."

Athos nodded and moved toward the end of the bed. He sat at d'Artagnan's feet and placed his hands midway between the unconscious Gascon's knees and ankles. Once both he and Porthos were set, Aramis used some of the wine Marie had brought to pour over his fingers and the tweezer he now held. Once this was done, he used his fingers and the tweezers to search the wound for any particles that may have gotten in. True to Aramis' belief, the pain from his search dragged d'Artagnan awake with a scream tearing from his throat. He weakly thrashed about, but the hold on his upper arms and legs kept him from moving much. Porthos leaned down as far as he could to whisper words of comfort into the Gascon's ear, but the pain was too much for the young man to hear anything, his screams of agony breaking the hearts of all those bearing witness to the pathetic scene. Yvette, unable to take seeing her friend in such a state, burst into tears and ran from the room, her mother close behind. After what seemed like hours, an exhausted d'Artagnan sagged back into the mattress, his screams ceasing, being replaced by weak whimpers before he slipped once again into unconsciousness, much to the relief and concern of his three brothers.

Finally, Aramis finished his search of the wound. He used more of the wine to pour over the injured area, then used a clean cloth dipped in the heated water to clean any remnants of blood and wine away before he took up needle and thread to close the wound. Once the wound was stitched, he used his limited supply of herbs to mix a poultice to put over the wound before he bandaged the shoulder up. With a heavy sigh, he sat back in the chair that had been provided for him and looked at his two tired brothers.

"I've done what I can. Hopefully, the poultice will keep infection away. What he needs now is to rest," he said as his gaze wandered back to his youngest brother.

Porthos nodded, his large fingers absently brushing through the Gascon's sweat soaked hair, then looked up as Marie entered the room.

"'ow is the little one?" Porthos queried when he didn't see Yvette follow her mother in.

"Cried herself to sleep," Marie replied with a sad smile. "She's grown quite fond of d'Artagnan over the past several weeks."

Athos turned and met their host's gaze. "Thank you for taking care of him in our absence. If we could have been here sooner, we would have been," he said.

Marie nodded, her eyes moving to settle on d'Artagnan's lax features. "He mourned your loss, you know," she softly stated as a single tear dropped from her eye to trail down her cheek.

"What?" a startled Aramis asked, his dark eyes coming up to look at Marie.

"When you didn't return and no word came that you had made it back to Paris and would soon be coming for him, he…well, he didn't say it with words, but his eyes and his physical state told me that he was in mourning. He stopped eating for a time. Then, once he had healed enough to get up and move around, he threw himself into fixing things up around here, doing chores. I told him that none of it was necessary, but he insisted that he had to earn his keep, but I knew there was more to it than that," Marie replied.

When three sets of eyes were upon her, she continued. "He was trying to forget…at least for awhile…that he was not going to see you again. Then yesterday he announced that he had to leave. That he knew something bad had happened to you and that he had to find you. He didn't say it, but I knew what he meant. He either had to save you if you were alive, or…or he had to bring you home if you weren't," she explained. "He was ready to leave this morning when those two men appeared."

"Do you know who the men were?" Athos asked as he stood from where he had been sitting on bed and turned to face Marie.

"They were part of the group of men who had attacked you before. They said they wanted the letter and that they knew d'Artagnan had it. They intended to take him to their leader."

"They said they knew d'Artagnan had a letter?" Athos asked.

"They told d'Artagnan that they had captured you three and did not find the letter. They told him that you had given him up, that he had the letter. They told him that they had killed you before coming to find him," Marie replied.

"So they attacked and he fought them to keep from being taken," Porthos said as he looked down at his unconscious brother.

"No, he attacked them to protect Yvette and me. They made…comments about us…about Yvette," Marie responded.

"That sounds like our pup, " Porthos said with a fond smile.

"I think there was more to it than just that," Aramis said as he stood and stepped up beside Athos.

"What more?" Athos queried.

"You said the two men told him that we had given him up," Aramis said. "He may have thought that we were dead, until that very moment, but then they made the mistake of saying that we told them he had the letter. He would know that we would die before putting him at risk. I believe it was then that he knew we were alive."

"That makes sense. The pup knows we would never betray 'im like that," Porthos said.

Athos turned and gazed at the lax face of his protégé and sighed. Guilt filled his heart at the thought of what his young friend had gone through. The grief and devastation that had surely gripped him when the three of them had not returned had to have been horrible to deal with, and yet, he had persevered, even in his weakened state. Finally, he pulled his gaze away from the sleeping Gascon and addressed his two brothers.

"This will never happen again. No matter the circumstances, or the ramifications…we will never leave a brother behind again." At the nods he received from Aramis and Porthos, Athos stood, turned for one last glance at their fourth, then solemnly left the room. When they heard the sound of the front door opening, then closing, Porthos stood and looked first at the door, then at Aramis.

"Should I go after 'im?" the big man asked furtively.

Aramis shook his head in response as he glanced up at his friend. "No, leave him be. He has taken the guilt upon himself and I think he just needs some time to himself to think. He won't go far, not with d'Artagnan in such shape," he responded tiredly.

Porthos nodded, then once again took a seat next to the bed. "It's gonna be a long day," he said as he settled in to help Aramis watch over their pup.

 **So, that's it for now. I'll work on the next (and most likely final) chapter as often as I can. Hopefully it won't take as long to get posted, but again, no promises. Thanks for reading and for kindly letting me know what you think. Take care.**

 **Cindy**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! My apologies for being so late on posting this. Things have been a bit difficult of late. My youngest son's best friend took his own life a few weeks ago so we've been dealing with all of that...so incredibly sad :( I finally have felt like tackling this chapter and though I'm not 100% happy with it (it's shorter than I would like), I wanted to get it posted since we are going on vacation next week and I won't be able to work on it while away. I want to thank those who have taken the time to leave their comments for me. I appreciate it so much! I'm sorry that I don't always personally respond to each message...I really need to get better at that! So, without further babbling on my part, on with the story!**

 **Chapter 5**

Athos let out a long, slow breath as he stepped out into the sunlight. He knew that he should be inside with his brothers, helping them to watch over their youngest, but at the moment, he just couldn't do it. When Marie had told them what their Gascon had gone through, his breath had nearly left him. He'd suddenly felt like he was suffocating and he had to get out, if only for a little while. The guilt pressed in on him like a vice when he'd looked at d'Artagnan after Marie's story. He was the one who had made the decision to leave the boy behind with strangers. Everything that d'Artagnan had gone through…the pain and sorrow, the loss, everything…that was squarely on his shoulders. Nobody else could accept that weight, though he knew both Aramis and Porthos would try to take at least some of it upon themselves, but he wouldn't let them. Neither of them had wanted to leave d'Artagnan, had fought Athos once they had gotten far enough away and were certain that nobody had followed, but Athos had held firm…they must all three get the letter back to Paris. Just because they hadn't been followed didn't mean that they were out of danger. He'd told them that until the letter had been delivered to the king, they had to stay strong, no matter how badly they all wanted to go back for their brother. They had to press on to Paris, then, and only then, could they return. But, the days had turned into weeks and Athos feared that he had caused his protégé irreparable damage with his decision.

A soft whinny drew Athos' attention and he smiled softly when he saw d'Artagnan's horse grazing nearby in some deep grass. Just as Marie had said, the horse was saddled and ready to go, but she would not be carrying her rider that day, and most likely not for many days to come. Athos walked the distance to where the horse stood and gently patted her neck when he stepped up beside her.

"How about we get that saddle off of you and get you in the barn?" Athos murmured as he took up her reins and led her to the small barn he could see behind the cottage.

Once Athos had d'Artagnan's horse in the only stall in the barn, he removed all of the gear from her back, then gave her a generous portion of hay. Athos then walked out of the barn and retrieved the other three horses that had been abandoned to wander when the Inseparables had seen their fallen brother. He coaxed all three into the large area next to the stall where d'Artagnan's horse stood, removed their saddles and bags, then piled more hay for them to eat. He decided that brushing them could wait until later and left the barn. He came around to the front of the cottage and eyed the two dead attackers who lay where they fell. He went to each body and searched for any clues as to who they were, and more importantly, who they worked for. Finding nothing of interest, he heaved a heavy sigh and stood up. He turned when he heard a soft shuffle behind him.

"We can pull them into the brush for now. Later we can take them to the village where they can be buried. I don't want them here," Marie said as she stepped up beside Athos and looked down with sadness at the man who lay at the musketeer's feet. "I've never killed anybody before, but…but I had to…for d'Artagnan," she whispered as a tear silently fell from her eye.

Athos placed his hand gently on her arm and gave her a reassuring smile when she lifted her eyes to meet his. "You did what you had to do and we will forever be in your debt…for everything that you have done for d'Artagnan…and for us. If he had perished we…we wouldn't have fared well, so…thank you," Athos said.

Marie smiled appreciatively before moving to the dead man's feet. Athos shook his head as he watched the woman to whom he owed everything. "Marie, go inside and send Porthos out. He can help me move these two while you check on the little one," he said softly.

Marie glanced down at the body, then back up at Athos. The thought of touching the man she had killed turned her stomach so she gave a quick dip of her chin before hurrying into the cottage. Athos watched her go and sighed as he turned his gaze to the sky. It had already been a long day, and it was barely midday. The swordsman had a feeling that there would be little, if any, rest for he and his brothers until it was a certainty that their youngest would survive. He shook the thought from his head when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He turned and met Porthos' gaze as the large man closed the distance between them.

"We packin' 'em up to take 'em away?" Porthos queried as he stepped up beside his friend.

"Later," Athos answered. "We'll take them over to that thick brush for now. It's almost meal time and I really don't want to leave d'Artagnan just yet…in case he wakes up," he added.

"I can take 'em now, Athos…you can stay," Porthos offered.

"No, I would rather not have anyone go off on their own. We can't be certain that there aren't more men out there. We'll eat and sit with d'Artagnan for a while then you and I can take them to town before dinner," Athos stated.

"Fine by me," Porthos said. He moved to the head of the nearest body and looked up at Athos. Together, they lifted the limp form and took him some distance away from the cottage, then dumped him in the brush. Next, they did the same with the other body. They went to a small barrel at the side of the cottage that contained water and washed their hands before they both went back inside. They could hear Marie shuffling around in the kitchen so they immediately went into the small bedroom where their two brothers were. Aramis looked up as they entered and smiled tiredly.

"He hasn't stirred," the medic stated as they moved deeper into the room. "I think it may be a bit before he does."

The two musketeers nodded as they both found places to sit. They all looked at each other before all three of their gazes moved to their fallen youngest. They settled in to keep watch, each with an equal share of relief and concern…relief that they had finally been reunited with d'Artagnan and that given time, he should recover from his most recent injury, but concern that their bond would forever be damaged because of their long separation.

It was an hour later, not long after they had finished the midday meal that Marie and Yvette had brought them that d'Artagnan began to awaken. The three Inseparables had immediately swarmed the bed at the first telltale groan from their young friend, with Athos taking up his hand and encouraging him to open his eyes. Finally, after much coaxing, the Gascon blinked his eyes open, but the response they received from the groggy young man was not what they had expected. Instead of happiness at finally seeing his friends, d'Artagnan cried out and began to fight against them. He ripped his hand from Athos' and hit out at him. When Porthos attempted to grab his other arm to settle him, d'Artagnan swung at him, catching him in the chin. If the young man hadn't been so weak, he may have even hurt Porthos, but as it was, the large man barely felt the hit.

"d'Artagnan! Calm yourself! You are going to further hurt yourself if you don't stop fighting us!" Athos cried as he finally got a grasp on the Gascon's hand.

d'Artagnan growled deep in his throat and once again ripped his hand away. "You leave them alone! If you touch them, I will kill you!" he screamed, his face red with fury.

A soft cry was heard from the doorway, then suddenly Yvette was on the bed, her small hands cupping the struggling young man's face. "Shhh, d'Artagnan. Mama and I are okay. These are your friends…they will not hurt us, or you," she cried softly as she brought her face to within just an inch or two of d'Artagnan's. The sound of her soft voice must have gotten through to the Gascon because he instantly collapsed back onto the bed, his glassy brown eyes staring up at the little girl's face. He lifted a shaky hand to her face and smiled.

"Yvette, you are okay?" he whispered tiredly.

Yvette nodded as tears began to stream down her cheeks. "We are fine…because of you," she replied. "Your friends, they are here, d'Artagnan. Surely you remember your friends?"

"Wha…my friends?" d'Artagnan asked, his voice barely audible. He flinched slightly when he felt a hand gently grasp his arm. When he turned to look to see who was there, his eyes widened.

"Athos?" he asked in a voice filled equally with hope and sadness.

Athos smiled when their eyes met and he gave a slight nod. "Yes, d'Artagnan," he said.

"You came back," the Gascon whispered softly.

"Of course we came back," a deep voice said from the other side of the bed. d'Artagnan turned toward the voice and smiled. "Porthos…I missed you," he said.

"Aye…and I missed you too, pup!" Porthos exclaimed as he reached out and ruffled the young man's hair. He let loose a boisterous laugh when d'Artagnan rolled his eyes and tried to brush his hand away.

"As lovely as this reunion is, I think the first thing that needs to be done is I need to get a look at that shoulder to make sure none of my fine needlework has been destroyed," Aramis quipped from beside Athos.

d'Artagnan let out a small, pained laugh as he turned to meet the medics gaze. "I am fine, Aramis. Always the worrier," he said, though the lines of pain on his face and light sheen of sweat that covered him gave away his lie.

"Well, be that as it may, why don't you humor me and let me take a quick look," Aramis replied with a fond smile.

"You know that he won't let up until he's gotten his way so you may as well not fight him," Athos drawled.

Before d'Artagnan could protest, Aramis was taking Athos' place at his side. Marie, who had been quietly standing at the doorway, called to Yvette to give the medic room to work. The young girl reluctantly crawled off the bed, but not before quickly planting a kiss to the Gascon's cheek. Once he had room, Aramis made quick work of removing the dressing from the young man's shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief and looked up at the expectant faces of his friends. "The stitches have held and so far, it doesn't look like infection has set in," he said. He rewrapped the wound, then sat back. Seeing the pain on his young friend's face, he lifted a mug of pain draught to his mouth and instructed him to drink. The sheer fact that d'Artagnan didn't argue was all the three men needed to know just how badly their youngest felt. Once he was finished, d'Artagnan sank back against his pillow and looked at each man.

"I can't believe you are here. I thought I would never see you again," he whispered.

Aramis took up the young man's hand and smiled down at him when their eyes met. "We are so incredibly sorry for taking so long to return to you, mon ami. We tried to get here as quickly as we could," he said, his voice filled with sadness. He smiled fondly as the Gascon's eyes began to droop.

"Wha' 'appened? Wha' took so long?" the young man slurred, his eyes becoming heavier and heavier.

Aramis took his hand and patted it gently. "Shhh, sleep now, d'Artagnan. We'll tell you everything once you are feeling better," he said.

"Promise?" d'Artagnan asked as he fought to remain awake.

"Aye, pup…we promise," Porthos said from his position opposite that of Athos and Aramis.

d'Artagnan nodded then slowly let his eyes fall shut. Once his breaths had evened out, the three Inseparables stood and met each other at the end of the bed. "Will he be okay?" Athos asked as he glanced down at the sleeping man.

"I think that he will be fine with plenty of rest. I'll keep a close eye on the wound to make sure we keep any infection at bay," Aramis replied.

Athos nodded as he returned his gaze to the medic. "That's good news. You stay with him. Porthos and I have something we need to do," he said.

"Of course, but what is it that you need to do?" Aramis queried.

"We have two bodies to get rid of," Athos replied. "We stashed them in some bushes away from the cottage, but Marie doesn't want them buried here. We'll be taking them to the village," he added.

"Ah, yes, I can understand that. You go, I'll be right here when you get back," Aramis said. "And be careful…we can't be certain there aren't other men still out there."

Athos nodded, then with one last look at d'Artagnan, he left the room. Porthos grasped Aramis' arm and dipped his head. "Take care of 'im, Aramis…we will return soon," the large man said.

Aramis smiled at his friend then went around the bed and took a seat next to the bed. He watched as Porthos left, then turned to look at d'Artagnan. "Sleep well, d'Artagnan…and don't you worry…we'll never leave you again. I promise," he whispered as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from the sleeping Gascon's face.

 **Well, they have finally been able to talk to their young friend, if only for a little while. I think now that d'Artagnan has seen his friends, he will make a speedy recovery. I'm thinking there will be one last chapter left, but we'll see. I hope you have enjoyed the reunion and will let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!**

 **Cindy**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, it's here...the final chapter. I apologize for the wait. I was on vacation for two weeks and this first week back has been spent catching up. This is a short chapter, just a nice little bit to close out this little journey for d'Artagnan and the Inseperables (and of course, Marie and little Yvette). I hope you enjoy :)**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Three Days Later**

"But I don't want you to leave," a tearful Yvette cried to the kneeling musketeer in front of her. "You still suffer from your shoulder…it would not do it any good to travel such a distance yet!"

d'Artagnan smiled as he wiped a tear from Yvette's cheek. "I am a King's musketeer, Yvette…I must return to Paris. We all must," he consoled, the small girl's hands held gently in his own.

"Surely the King wouldn't want his best musketeer to injure himself further by leaving too soon," Yvette cried indignantly. She fixed Porthos with a blistering glare when the large man chuckled at her words. He held his hands out in a placating manner and managed to hide his smirk at the fierce, yet adorable look the girl was sending his way.

d'Artagnan held in his own chuckle, then turned serious again when Yvette turned his way. "Of course the King wouldn't want his best musketeer to injure himself further…that is why we waited until Aramis gave the okay for me to travel," he explained.

Yvette stomped her foot once as she glanced over at the fidgeting medic. "I don't think that Aramis knows what he is talking about, if you ask me. He has given in to your badgering way too easily!"

"If I may…" Aramis began before he was silenced with one raised hand from the Gascon.

"Aramis is a very good medic and despite my badgering, he would never let me travel before he felt I was ready. We will travel only as far as my pain will allow and, on my honor, I swear that I will let Aramis know as soon as the pain becomes too much," d'Artagnan said. "I will be fine, Yvette. I promise."

Yvette held the Gascon's gaze, her lower lip sticking out in an adorable pout that made the musketeer want to pull her into his arms. "Surely you can stay a few more days," she whispered sadly, her shoulders sagging in resignation when d'Artagnan shook his head.

"I'm sorry, sweet Yvette…we must get the information that we found out from the villagers to the palace. We were incredibly lucky that a few of them recognized the men who attacked us and gave us the name of the man they worked for. The King must be told as soon as possible," d'Artagnan explained.

"Couldn't Athos and Porthos ride out ahead and then you and Aramis follow in two or three days?" Yvette queried softly.

"Yvette, you must stop this. They must go, my sweet girl," Marie said from where she stood next to a silent Athos.

"But mama!" Yvette cried.

"I would like nothing more than to stay a while longer, but we cannot split up. We are more vulnerable with fewer numbers. We must travel together and we must leave today," d'Artagnan said as he pulled the miserable girl into his arms. "I'm going to miss you terribly, Yvette," he added as he pulled out of the hug. "I promise that I will be back to see you. Our missions take us this way sometimes and I will make a point to stop for a visit."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," d'Artagnan said with a wide smile. "Now, I'm sorry, but we must go."

Yvette nodded before throwing her arms around d'Artagnan's neck and hugging him tightly. "I'll miss you. Don't wait too long to come back for a visit," she whispered. She pulled back and placed a soft kiss on the Gascon's cheek before stepping back.

"I won't," d'Artagnan said as he pushed to his feet. He turned to Marie and smiled as she stepped up to him.

"I will miss you as well, d'Artagnan. Please be careful, and take care of yourself," Marie said as she gave the musketeer a tight hug.

"I will. I promise," d'Artagnan said. "Thank you for everything, Marie. I can never repay you for your kindness."

"Just get to Paris safely and return when you can," Marie said with a smile.

"I can do that," d'Artagnan said. He gave Yvette another hug before moving back to allow his friends to say their goodbyes. All three of the remaining musketeers offered their heartfelt thanks to both Marie and Yvette for taking such good care of their youngest and all three promised they would bring him back for a visit as soon as they possibly could. More tears were shed as the four musketeers mounted their horses, and with a long wave goodbye, they rode out of sight. Marie gathered up her daughter in her arms and took the softly crying girl into the cottage. She set Yvette down in front of the fireplace then cocked her head when she saw something small and white sitting on the hearth. She walked over and ran her fingers over a lovely embroidered handkerchief that she had never seen before. Beside the handkerchief was a messily scrawled note. She picked it up and read it, then smiled.

"Yvette, d'Artagnan has left his promise that he will return. Come and see," Marie called. The girl stood up from the stool she'd been sitting on and came to stand beside her mother.

"What is it, mama?" she asked.

"I'll read it to you," Marie replied.

 _My dearest Marie and Yvette. I will never be able to thank you enough for what you have done for me. As a token of my sincerest gratitude, and a promise of many visits in the future, please accept this small gift. This handkerchief belonged to my mother. It was her favorite and I have carried it with me since her death. To never hold it in my hands again would be torture to me, so you see, I must return. Not that I need my mother's handkerchief to visit as it would also be torture to never see either of you again. Yvette, I am entrusting you to take care of this piece of my mother. Keep it safe. I love you both so very much. Until we see each other again ~ d'Artagnan_

"He wants me to take care of it, Mama," Yvette whispered as she carefully lifted the handkerchief up and admired the intricate needlework.

"That shows how much he trusts you. You must find a safe place for it," Marie said with a smile.

"Oh, I will, Mama! I will take the best care of it! d'Artagnan will be so proud!" Yvette exclaimed.

"Yes he will be," Marie agreed. She smiled widely when Yvette scampered away, obviously on a search for the perfect place for the precious gift. She looked around her home and sighed. It seemed a bit hollow now without d'Artagnan there. Their lives had been enriched with his presence and it wouldn't be the same without him there, but she knew that he was where he needed to be…with his brothers, serving his King with honor and loyalty. She would wait with as much anticipation as her daughter for the day when he would appear at their door. Until then, she had lunch to prepare.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

d'Artagnan smiled as the day wore on. He was finally on his way home, his brothers on either side of him, alive and well. His shoulder ached, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The pain in his heart was a little bit harder to ignore, but he knew that someday he would see his new "family" again. His smile faded somewhat when he remembered the miserable look on Yvette's face when they had left. She was young and just didn't understand why he couldn't stay. He hoped that his small gift would give her hope that he wasn't saying goodbye…only farewell, until they could see each other again. He sighed as the sting of separation hit him. He had no idea when he would see Marie and Yvette again and the idea of it hurt more than he thought it would. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a deep, throaty laugh. He glanced over at Porthos and wondered at what conversation he missed in his brooding that would pull such a laugh from his friend. He shook his head and smiled as he thought that it didn't really matter. Just the sound of it was perfect. They were back together, as it should be, a little worse for wear, but intact and happy. It had been a long, hard journey of fear, pain, grief, and finally, joy at being reunited with his brothers. He was where he was meant to be and it would take more than a few hired thugs to destroy the unbreakable bond he shared with these three men whom he called brothers. d'Artagnan raised his face to the sun, closed his eyes and breathed in a deep breath. He was finally home, for home really was wherever his friends were, and he would fight anyone who tried to take that from him again.

The End

 **That's it. Thank you to all who took the time to leave me comments...I so enjoy reading them. Until next time!**

 **Cindy :)**


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